Because the Night
by Ishmaela
Summary: Um...it's hard to categorize. It stars Dave, and it's weird. Sorry for the lag in updating, and sorry if this chapter seems lame. Dave has been stubborn lately and refuses to tell me what he's thinking. ;)
1. Chapter 1

Because the Night Title: Because the Night

Disclaimer: Currently, neither ER nor any of its characters belong to me. However, once my plans to become Dictator of the World have become reality, everything will belong to me, thus, ER and its characters will belong to me. But until that time comes, please don't sue me. I don't have any money. And the only thing I'm getting from writing this is a lot of enjoyment. I'd also like to add that the song "Because the Night" doesn't belong to me, either, but to the Boss, Bruce Springsteen. (Subliminal message: See Springsteen in concert. He rocks.) I've taken the liberty of changing a few of the lyrics slightly, and I hope he doesn't sue me either. In return, I'll be giving him the position of Songwriter Laureate in my regime.

A/N: Please read and review. Constructive criticism helps me improve my writing, and knowing people enjoy my work gives me more incentive to write. Archiving is okay, just let me know where. At some point, I'll probably reciprocate with a link from my domain. This is going to be an odd little fic; I'm not exactly sure how to classify it. It's going to be a crossover, but until the crossover part becomes obvious, I'm keeping my mouth shut about it.   
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_Take me now baby, here as I am_   
_Pull me close, try and understand_   
_I walk all night and miss the hot sun_   
_Just stay with me now till the morning comes_

Dave frowned slightly as he glanced at his watch. His shift had officially ended an hour ago, but as Weaver had seemed to take such delight in telling him, doctors didn't necessarily keep regular hours. Oh, well, he reasoned, there was still time to go out, although he really wished he had more time. A whole hour lost from his quest. 

As he was heading to get his bike, Doris the EMT rushed past him to the ambulance, spouting off an address to her partner. Immediately, Dave's ears perked up. 

"Hey...I was planning on going that way. Would you mind giving me a lift?" 

Doris regarded Dave for a moment, then shrugged. 

"Sure, if you'll give us a hand before abandoning us." 

"Deal." 

Dave climbed into the ambulance as it took off. 

"So, what's the emergency?" he asked. 

"Attempted suicide," Doris replied. "Apparently some woman slit her wrists in a back alley." 

Dave nodded, then his thoughts turned elsewhere for the rest of the ride. 

Damn, he hated losing that much time. Of course, he told himself, he was probably just going on another wild goose chase. Oh, it wouldn't be a totally unproductive goose chase. He would hang out in a few clubs, have a few drinks, probably try to get a phone number or two. But in the end, he would probably just go home empty handed, fall into his bed, and sleep until his alarm clock announced that it was time to get up to get ready for work again. No worse for wear...but no better either. 

He laughed softly at himself. What did he think he was doing? Chasing after some dream? After all, it had been...what...three weeks ago? And no luck since? Not that he'd had much luck then. No, as a matter of fact, she'd ditched him cold, without so much as telling him her name. But there was something about her that intrigued him, and he was determined to find her again. 

He was brought back to the present when the ambulance came to a stop. Jumping out behind the EMTs, he rushed with them to the mouth of an alley, where they were met by two cops who looked totally bewildered. 

"Where's the victim?" Doris asked. 

"It's the damnedest thing," one of the cops said, shaking his head. "You won't believe this...she got up and ran off." 

The second EMT snorted lightly. "Must not have been as bad as it sounded." 

The cop shook his head harder. "No, man...come and look at this!" 

Dave and the EMTs followed the cops further into the alley until they came to a puddle of blood. A huge puddle of blood. It looked to Dave as though there were gallons of the stuff. 

"Jesus Christ," he said softly. "How the hell could someone get up and run after losing this much blood? By all rights, she should've bled out." 

"I don't know, the second cop replied. "But we got here just three minutes before you did, and as soon as we approached her, she got up and hightailed it out of here. We had just started trying to look for her when we heard you guys coming." 

"Well, shit," Doris said. "I guess we shouldn't be standing here. We should be looking for her. Although, by the looks of that blood, we'll be looking for a DOA." 

"Well, it should be easy enough to find her," Dave put in. "Just follow the trail of blood." 

The first cop shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Check it out." 

Motioning for the others to follow, he continued along the trail that the victim had left, till it came to a corner...and stopped. 

"Unreal," Dave said softly, shaking his head. 

"You're telling me," the cop replied.

Dave sighed. "Jesus, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Listen, Malucci," Doris said, "you're off, and there probably won't be anything you can do for someone who's bled as much as that, anyway. Why don't you just go ahead and do whatever you were going to do? I think we can manage."

Dave furrowed his brow slightly. "You sure?" True, his idea of things he wanted to do on his off time didn't exactly include looking for a probable corpse, but it still felt rather wrong for him to just walk away.

"Yeah. We can take it from here."  
  
Dave sighed again. "Listen, I'll walk slowly and keep an eye out. If I find her, I'll yell. Deal?"  
  
"Deal," Doris said with a smile.

"Thanks," Dave replied, turning the corner where the blood trail disappeared and heading towards the club he'd planned to start with. Behind him, he could hear the voices of the cops and the EMTs as they chose directions to split up and search. As he walked, he kept his eyes open for any sign of blood, or any sign of a body. He cursed under his breath as he remembered he hadn't thought to ask the cops for a description of the victim. Oh, well, he reasoned, it would probably be pretty hard to miss someone bleeding profusely from both wrists.

What could possess someone to do something like that, anyway? Oh, it wasn't that Dave Malucci didn't know what despair felt like...he'd felt it plenty in his life...but perhaps he was too much of a survivor. He'd seen too many who gave into it, and he'd be damned if he would. No, as far as he was concerned, survival was the best revenge. If he lived and made something of himself, it would be like spitting in the eye of all the people who'd tried to keep him down.

It was while he was thinking these thoughts that he turned into a dark alley. He wasn't worried about the dark; he'd faced worse than darkness in his life. And besides, it was a shortcut that would bring him out closer to the nightclub that was his destination. His progress, however, was cut short by an object in his way. Check that...by a person in his way, a person who he ran right into.

"Ooof..." He was about to apologize when he heard a low hiss from the person in front of him, and a sudden scurry of feet. He recovered his senses in time to see a slim form running off into the alley.

"Hey!" he called out, starting forward, then suddenly losing his footing as he slipped on something in his path.

Blood.

"Ah, shit," he cursed softly, scrambling to his feet and taking off in pursuit. He had no idea whether this was the potential suicide, and frankly he doubted it, given the fact that the woman was still on her feet, but considering that she should have bled out before she'd moved the first time, he wasn't taking any chances.

He turned down another corner into another alley, following the path he thought the woman had taken, cursing again when he couldn't see her. But then he noticed more blood on the ground, so he knew he was on the right track. He moved further into the alley, keeping his eyes open, although he saw no more blood.

Until he saw something liquid glinting on a fire escape ladder.

"Gotcha," he said softly, moving towards the ladder and hoisting himself up, tilting his head up so he could see where he was going.

And suddenly he stopped as a handful of debris came flying down from above, some of it going into his eyes, a large chunk of something catching him square in the mouth.

"Owfuck!" he exclaimed as he felt the warm, salty taste of blood in his mouth from his cut lip. He dropped from the ladder, shaking his head to dislodge the stray debris, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear his vision.

He couldn't tell for sure, but he thought the cut on his lip was pretty bad. It hurt like a bitch, at any rate. He moved his fingers to probe at it gingerly when he heard a noise from above...another hiss, followed by what sounded like a whimper.

Opening his eyes, he looked up, just in time to see a female form hurtling at him from above. And in the flash of an instant before she knocked him to the ground and latched her lips upon his, he realized he recognized her. 


	2. Chapter 2

BtN2

_Come on now, try and understand_   
_The way I feel when I'm in your hands_   
_Take me now as the sun descends_   
_They can't hurt you now_   
_They can't hurt you now_   
_They can't hurt you now_

~THREE WEEKS EARLIER~ 

Dave sat at the bar, nursing his second drink of the evening. He had an early shift the next day, so he was trying to keep himself reasonably sober. The night had been unproductive so far. There wasn't really much happening in this club, and he told himself that as soon as he finished his drink he'd go elsewhere. The highlight of his evening so far had been getting mixed signals from a curvy brunette who turned out to be there with her boyfriend. The signals she'd been giving became decidedly unmixed when said boyfriend returned to the table, so Dave shrugged it off, figuring correctly that he'd been a pleasant diversion for the brunette while she waited. 

He raised his eyes to scan the crowd, inwardly groaning at the fact that most of the people tonight seemed to be coupled off, and here he was, self-proclaimed Stud of the ER, drinking alone. Yeah, wouldn't his coworkers laugh if they saw him now. Ah, well, at least the music was good. 

And then he happened to look across the dance floor, and he saw her. 

She was drop-dead gorgeous. Simple as that. She reminded Dave of a porcelain doll come to life, everything about her was so perfect, from her pale, creamy skin, to the lustrous waves of copper hair that cascaded down her back, to the vivid emerald eyes that were half-closed as she swayed her body to the music. She moved with a grace that made her seem almost part of the music, her hips swaying softly to the rhythm as her arms snaked out, above her head, and down once more. She was dancing alone, as if the music was playing for her and no other. 

As Dave watched, one of the other poor slobs who was out drinking alone approached her, his arms slipping around her waist. The woman's eyes opened fully, a smirk forming on her perfect lips as she turned in the man's grasp, her hand connecting with his chest and lightly pushing him away as she spun out of his reach. Without missing a beat, she kept dancing, her eyes on the man, her head shaking and her finger waggling at him as he attempted to approach her again. The smirk deepened as the man gave up and moved away. 

'What are you thinking, Dave old boy? She'll probably give you the same treatment,' he thought to himself. But despite that, he finished his drink, set his glass down on the bar, and moved out on the dance floor. The music was fast and furious, and he began to move in time with it as he scouted the floor for her position. 

There she was, the black cropped tank she was wearing over her black leather skirt riding up enough to reveal more of her skin as her arms waved above her head. As he moved closer, he could see the belly ring through her navel, and could also more deeply appreciate the smoothness of her skin. Again the image of the porcelain doll came to mind. Her skin was flawless, delicately cream-shaded. 

Dave approached even closer, keeping an eye on her. She was still dancing, completely oblivious to his approach or, indeed, to anything except the pulsing rhythm of the music. He moved closer still, deciding not to make the mistake of the previous guy, at least not immediately. So he just contented himself with dancing in her general vicinity, relying on the crowd on the floor to push him just to the edge of her personal space every now and again. 

She finally became aware of him and looked up, green eyes glinting with a hint of amusement as she arched a delicate brow. He simply smiled at her, making no attempt to move closer...for now. 

The song ended and a slower one began. Dave watched as the pairs on the floor moved closer, arms encircling each other, bodies pressing together. He cast a doubtful eye upon the dancing goddess, his posture slumping a bit as he began to turn and leave the floor. 

So he was surprised when he felt a cool hand upon his shoulder, then an arm slip around his waist. 

"Giving up so easily?" 

Dave turned and flashed a grin. 

"Well, I've seen what happens to those who intrude where they aren't wanted." 

"And who says _you're_ wanted?" she asked, slipping her other arm around him and moving closer. 

"You're here, aren't you?" He slipped his own arms around her slender waist, drawing her to him as his body matched her rhythm. 

"Don't be presumptuous. I'm just here to dance." 

"Too bad for me." 

She laughed then, looking up at him with a grin that suggested she knew more than he did. 

"Actually, I'd say lucky for you." 

"Then you don't know me very well," Dave replied, inhaling the scent of her hair as he enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed close to his. 

"And you don't know me very well, either," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. 

"We could remedy that." He tested his limits slightly, letting his hands slide to just above her hips. 

"You like playing with fire, don't you?" 

"Hmm. Depends on how hot it is." 

"Hotter than you can imagine," she said, smirking up at him. 

"I have a very vivid imagination." He flashed another grin at her. 

She laughed, shaking her head, wafting the scent of her hair more strongly to Dave's nostrils. Her hair smelled of cinnamon and roses. 

"I'm sure you do. But do yourself a favor and imagine someone else." 

"Why should I do that when I have perfection right here in my arms?" He chuckled quietly as he said it, just as aware as she was of how cheesy his line sounded. 

Her expression turned serious as she gazed up at him. 

"No, really," she said. "I think I might like you. So run while you can." 

Dave raised a brow. "That sounds pretty contradictory." 

"Take it from me, it's not." 

Dave pulled away just enough to give her a scrutinizing gaze. Her face was dead serious. 

"You're a puzzle, aren't you?" 

"Maybe," she replied, shrugging. "But that's not your cue to figure me out." 

"But what if you've got me too curious?" he asked, grinning at her again. 

"You know what they say about curiosity and the cat." 

Just then the song ended, and she extricated herself from Dave's grasp, much to his disappointment. 

"Hey, wait," he called, but she didn't turn, simply made her way through the crowd and off the floor. Frowning, Dave moved after her. He reached for her arm, but she shrugged it away, her pace quickening as she started weaving in and out of the bodies in her way. 

"Damn," Dave swore under his breath, trying to keep pace with her as she suddenly seemed to melt into the crowd and disappear. 

Shoving his way through the crowd, he found a clear spot from which he could see most of the club, and cursed again as he saw her disappear through the door. Once again, he was on the move, picking his way as quickly as he could through the mass of bodies, exiting the door and casting about on the street. Just in time to see her red head turn a corner. 

As unobtrusively as he could, he followed, keeping a discreet distance from her. Luckily there were other people on the streets at this hour, going and coming from the various nightspots in the area, so he had cover if she happened to turn around. 

She didn't, however, and he was able to track her until she turned into the door of a club he'd never seen before. He followed her in, uncaring of where he was or how he'd find his way back. He made his way further into the club, looking for her, then groaned softly. Had she eluded him again? 

Then he felt someone grasp his arm firmly from behind and spin him around. He blinked as he was turned to face his redhaired goddess. He definitely wouldn't have guessed at the strength in that slight body. And she was glaring at him with a look that, if he were to embellish upon a clichè, not only would have killed him, but would have done so in the most agonizing manner imaginable. 

"You _followed_ me!" she hissed, the soft sound surprisingly audible above the blare of the music. "Why?" 

Dave shrugged. "I would think that would be obvious." 

"I warned you to leave me alone," she spat, still glaring. "Do you have _any_ idea..." 

"Any idea of what?" he asked, clearly confused. "You haven't exactly been a treasure trove of information about yourself. In fact, the only thing I know for sure is that despite the fact that you may like me, you want me to stay away. A fact that makes no sense to me, as I'm sure you can imagine." 

He paused, then narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, taking her arm gently in his. 

"Are...are you afraid of someone? Is that why you want me to keep my distance?" Because that was the only thing he could think of to explain her odd behavior. 

And he was confused even more when she threw back her head and laughed. 

"Afraid of someone? Oh, that's rich," she said, trying to regain composure. 

Dave silently watched as she struggled to stop her laughter. When she finally did, she looked at him with an expression that seemed almost sad. 

"Yes, I'm afraid of someone. And you should be, too. Afraid of _me_." 

Dave dared to move a step closer, speaking softly. "And why would I be?" 

She simply shook her head, her near melancholy expression unchanging. 

"Listen to me. Please. Keep. Your. Distance. I can't explain why, but if I could you'd be thanking me. Just...take my word for it." 

She looked at him with a soft expression before continuing. "And get out of here, for fuck's sake. You don't belong here." 

At that, Dave blinked, finally looking around him. _Really_ looking around him. And despite the fact that he wasn't exactly a stranger to a few sexual practices that might be considered slightly kinky, he was taken aback by what he saw. 

A few of the patrons sported canine teeth that had been filed to points. A few more wore false canines that were similarly sharp. And in a few darkened corners, he could make out patrons who were using needles or razors to make small cuts on their bodies, then offering the blood to be lapped by another. 

"Holy shit," he muttered, still trying to process the sight. He'd heard of people who were into pretending to be vampires. Hell, he'd even seen a few movies that made the whole vampire scene seem pretty sexy. But actually drinking someone's blood, or letting them drink his own..._that_ was a little too weird, even for Dave Malucci. 

He turned back to look at the redhead, blinking. 

"Um...is _this_ your scene?" 

She looked at him openmouthed for a moment, then laughed again. Her eyes scanned over the patrons of the club as she smirked, her expression a mixture of contempt and amusement. 

"Fuck, no," she said softly. "They're a bunch of fucking posers." 

Still, she turned away from him and disappeared into the crowd. Only this time, Dave didn't follow. 


	3. Chapter 3

BtN3

_Because the night belongs to lovers_   
_Because the night belongs to us_

'What the...' 

Dave's mind didn't even have time to finish the thought before the redhaired goddess he had followed three weeks ago landed on him, bearing him to the ground. There was a moment of discomfort as his back made acquaintance with the pavement, but then he had no complaints at all when he felt her mouth cover his. Almost instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her. She was drawing his lower lip into her mouth, her tongue working gently against the spot where the debris had cut him. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, soon he felt no pain from the cut at all. 

And then she moved her mouth from his, trailing her lips to his neck. He arched his neck back for her, wondering why she had taken this sudden mood, but not about to question it. Sure...Dave Malucci stop a woman when she was nuzzling his neck? Not a chance. 

He winced a bit as her nibbling grew a bit too enthusiastic. So enthusiastic, as a matter of fact, that it almost felt as if she'd punctured his skin. But then the momentary pain gave way to pure ecstasy as he felt her mouth and tongue working against his neck. Drawing the blood to the surface. It briefly crossed his mind that he would have one hell of a mark there tomorrow, but he didn't think to object. No way...he was enjoying this too much. She was good. So damn good. What she was doing to him, simply with her mouth on his neck...he felt his breathing go shallow as his hands tightened on her waist. 

Jesus, was it possible to orgasm just through someone kissing your neck? 

Before he had a chance to find out, however, she made a sound deep within her throat, somewhere between a growl and a whimper of despair, and pulled quickly back, shoving him roughly away. 

"Damn you!" she hissed, turning her head to the side and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Dave was more confused than he had been at their first meeting. Eyeing her curiously, he moved to a sitting position. She wouldn't look at him. 

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" he asked softly. 

At that, she turned another one of those glares on him that he had seen when he followed her. For some reason, rather than intimidate him, it made him laugh, though there wasn't much humor in it. 

"Yeah, that's right. I forgot. Keep my distance. I'm not the one who tackled you for a pretty heavy liplock." 

"You were bleeding," she spat accusingly. 

"And that has what to do with the price of tea in China?" Dave asked, shaking his head as he looked at her. "Jesus. Did I fall down the rabbit hole and not realize it?" 

Her gaze softened a bit and she smirked. "No. Worse." Then she shut her eyes and ran her hands through her hair wearily. 

"Do you have to practice to be this confusing?" 

Dave shot a grin at her as he stood up, brushing the dust from himself and then holding his hand out to her to see if she wanted a hand up. She looked at his hand for a moment as if it were a venomous snake poised to strike, then took it and let him help her up. 

"It just comes naturally," she said. Her voice held that tone that suggested she meant it to be humorous, but didn't quite make it. She sullenly went about the task of brushing herself off. 

"Need some help there?" Dave grinned widely at her, which had the desired effect of making her chuckle...just a bit. 

"I can manage. You've done quite enough."  
  
"Okay. Would you tell me exactly what it is I'm supposed to have done? Because as far as I can figure, I didn't do anything on purpose this time."  
  
She looked up wearily, then shook her head. 

"Just...drop it. Please." She started to back away, giving him a pleading look as she held her hands up to him. "And leave me alone."  
  
Dave was about to reluctantly acquiesce...after all, despite his posturing at work, he _did_ know that there was a point where you just had to leave a woman alone...when he noticed something. He blinked, sure that it must be a trick of the light, but no. His eyes weren't deceiving him. 

Reaching out quickly, he caught both her wrists in his hands and turned them up towards the dim light. He looked down at the marks on them, long, angry red marks running from the spot where her hand met the wrist to nearly half the length of her forearm. Like the just-healing puckers that might be left after suturing a wound closed only a few hours before. 

He raised his eyes to meet hers, his expression one of puzzled understanding. 

"It was you. The attempted suicide. But how...?" 

She snatched her arms from his grasp and crossed them tightly over her chest, her gaze going to the ground. 

"I'm asking you now...no...I'm _begging_ you...forget about this. Forget about me." 

Dave shook his head, as much in confusion as denial of her request. He tentatively reached out for her once more, and despite a step backward for appearance's sake, she didn't protest. He grasped her arms gently and pulled her closer, taking one arm in his hands and bringing it up for closer inspection. 

"You don't _want_ me to forget about it," he told her softly. 

Again, she didn't protest. Instead, she let him look at her healing wound, her shoulders slumping forward as her head went down. 

"I'm just...so damnably tired," she murmured through the curtain of hair that fell forward and shaded her face. 

Dave reached out and moved the hair from her face, his nose tickled once again by the tantalizing scent of cinnamon and roses. So many questions were swimming through his brain, some of which he didn't even know how to phrase, some of which he probably wasn't even aware he wanted to ask. So he started from the beginning. 

"Are you going to at least tell me your name?" 

"Alyxx," she whispered softly. 

"Alyxx," he repeated. "I'm Dave." 

She lifted her gaze and smirked. 

"Charmed, I'm sure." 

Dave grinned. He was immediately on more comfortable ground. Until he turned his attention back to her wrists. Using one finger, he lightly traced alongside the path of the healing scar on the wrist he held in his hand. 

"Why...? How...? I mean...I saw the blood back there..." 

She pulled her wrist away, gently this time, and looked upwards, as if the sky held the answers. 

"You were bleeding," she finally said, simply, as if it should answer all his questions. 

"Yeah...and?" 

She looked at him once more, holding his gaze with hers. 

"And are you now?" 

"I don't..." He lifted his fingers to the spot on his lip where he had been cut, and realized the area was clean and dry. He couldn't even feel the tiniest pucker in his skin to tell where the wound had been. "Must not have been as bad as I thought."  
  
She laughed humorlessly. "It was pretty bad. Not quite bad enough to leave a scar, but enough to have bled for awhile, and been sore as hell for a couple of days." 

Dave furrowed his brow. Why did she insist on confusing him?  
  
"But what does..." 

She shook her head and raised a hand, cutting him off. 

"It wasn't a 'liplock,' as you put it. I was...feeding. But I couldn't get enough from that small wound." 

"What?" If Dave had thought it was impossible for him to be more confused, he'd been wrong. 

Alyxx cast another gaze skyward, as if wondering how dense he could be, then leveled her gaze upon him once more. 

"Dave. Think about it. The place you followed me to the other night. The blood you saw in the alley earlier tonight. The fact that you were bleeding when I jumped you. The fact that I bit your neck."  
  
Dave shook his head incredulously. 

"But you said you weren't into the vampire scene..." 

She gave another humorless laugh, this one tinged with more than a hint of despair. 

"The scene? No. But remember what I told you? That they were posers? That's because I'm _not_ a poser, Dave. I'm the real deal. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick and tired of existing like this. I wanted to put an end to it, and I tried...but they found me, so I had to escape before they could find out what I was. And I was starting to get weaker, but then you ran into me and I had to try to get away again. Only this time, I couldn't get as far. And then I made the mistake of throwing that handful of debris at you to try to get you to back off. And if I'd known it'd make you bleed, I wouldn't have done it. 

"Because when I smelled the blood, I was too weak to resist."  
  
Dave blinked at her. Then he blinked again. And shook his head. And began to chuckle uneasily. 

"You're shitting me."  
  
"I wish I was. You know why there isn't even a mark on your lip now? For the same reason there isn't one on your neck. The wounds we make heal quickly. Just like...our own wounds heal quickly. When we have blood. And I had blood, Dave. Your blood. Which is why my wrists that should be gaping open and completely empty by now look like they've just been sewn closed." 

"You're a vampire." 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. It's why I wanted you to stay away." 


	4. Chapter 4

BtN4 Disclaimer: Okay, about right now I suppose I should also say that White Wolf games and the Vampire: the Masquerade game system do not currently belong to me, either (although keep in mind that will change when my world dictatorship begins). I've taken some liberties with the game system, in keeping with the little blurb that appears in the rulebook about how Storytellers should feel free to throw out rules they don't like, but most of the characterization of Alyxx comes from V:tM's guidelines. I now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic.   
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_Because the night belongs to lovers_   
_Because the night belongs to us_

Dave shook his head, watching Alyxx closely. 

"A vampire. I...I'm sorry. I just can't believe it." 

Alyxx chuckled humorlessly, shrugging. "Fine. Just think of me as some crazy chick you met one night and forget about me. We'll leave it at that." 

"I can't do that, Alyxx," he replied softly. "I mean, I can't deny that there's something..._strange_ going on here, but...a vampire? How am I supposed to believe that?" 

"Jesus fucking Christ!" She whirled on him in a fury, and Dave, surprised, took a step backwards. "Did I _ask_ you to believe it? Do I fucking _owe_ you an explanation? I never asked you to approach me, I never asked you to follow me, and I never asked you to pretend you were some knight come riding in on a white horse to save me! So excuse me if I really don't give a shit whether you believe me or not!" 

She turned away from him and started to storm away, but Dave grabbed her arm gently. 

"Alyxx...please," he pleaded quietly. 

"What?" 

Her voice was soft and choked with tears. She had her face turned away from him once again, and her hair had once more fallen forward, obscuring her features. Dave sighed and pulled her closer, reaching out with his free hand to move her hair aside. 

And he froze at what he saw. 

She was indeed crying. Red tears. Blood tears. 

"Jesus," he whispered. 

Alyxx gave a short, harsh laugh. 

"Yeah. I'm a fucking freak." She sighed and shook her head wearily. "Just...leave me alone, Dave." 

She dropped her head down, her shoulders shaking gently with silent sobs. 

Dave swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment. Then he did the only thing he knew he could do. 

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her. 

"Shhh. Don't cry, Alyxx. Hush, now..." 

His attempt at comforting her only made her cry all the harder, the crimson tears soaking into his shirt. 

"Alyxx, I'm sorry. I just...want to understand," he whispered softly. And he did. Even if understanding turned his entire world upside down. 

She gave a soft, bitter chuckle. 

"You're better off just walking away." 

"And what's going to happen to you if I do?" he asked, taking hold of her wrists. "Are you going to try something like this all over again?" 

"It's none of your concern," she replied with a shrug. 

"The hell it isn't! First of all, I'm a doctor. I won't just stand by and let someone die. And second, you...well...there's something about you..." 

He wasn't sure how to put it into words. It wasn't just that she was beautiful that drew him...there was something about _her_, about that quality of toughness that was just cracked enough to see the pain and fragility beneath. Maybe he saw her as a kindred spirit. 

She shook her head and pulled away from him. 

"There's nothing about me! It's part of what I am. We...allure mortals. We fascinate them. It's the same type of fascination you might have watching a tiger in a cage, or a wolf on the prowl. I'm a predator, Dave, one of the most dangerous you'll ever meet." 

"And how would you know what I've met in my life?" Dave replied quietly. "Alyxx, I don't know _what_ you are. I know what you _say_ you are, and maybe you are that. But I also know there's more to you than that. And I can't just walk away and spend the rest of my life wondering about you." 

She raised her chin, eyes meeting his. Her expression turned cold. 

"I could kill you," she said flatly. 

Dave shrugged. "Maybe. And if you are what you say you are, I probably wouldn't stand a chance." 

"Jesus H. Christ!" she exclaimed, shaking her head incredulously, giving a mirthless laugh. "Do you have a death wish?" 

"No," he replied. "Far from it. And I don't doubt that you could kill me. But I do doubt that you _will_." 

Alyxx shook her head and regarded him with a smirk. 

"I'll say one thing for you. You've got cajones." 

Dave chuckled softly. "Do I?" 

"I still don't think you know what you're dealing with," she replied, the smirk still on her face. 

"Then tell me." 

"You won't believe me." The smirk actually started to turn into a hint of a smile. 

"Try me." 

"I'm a vampire. Do you believe that?" 

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Maybe." He paused, looking down at his shirt, stained from her tears, then added, "Probably." 

The smirk was completely replaced by a smile. 

"Sorry about your shirt." 

"It's all right," he said, returning the smile. "It was pretty old anyway. I'll just toss it when I get home. Now...what about you?"  
  
"What about me?" 

"Well," he began, unsure of where he was even going, "you tried to kill yourself. I've accepted that you're most likely what you say you are. Now what I want to know is, why?" 

"Why I'm a vampire or why I tried to kill myself?" she asked, the smirk returning. 

"Whichever you feel like telling me."  
  
"And how do you know I feel like telling you anything?"  
  
"Because you're here. Because you haven't killed me yet." 

She snorted softly. "_Yet_." Dave simply looked at her, until she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "All right. I guess I'm not going to kill you. Don't ask me why; I don't know."  
  
"Maybe because you're not as ready to die as you think you are?" he suggested softly. 

She ran her hands through her hair, tossing her head back. 

"I...I don't know. You have no idea what it's like for me. You never could. I've been existing for over two hundred years now, and I'm fucking _tired_. I keep thinking there's got to be more than this. Two hundred years of existence, and what do I have to show for it? An empty soul and a trail of bodies." 

Dave blinked. "Bodies?"  
  
She met his gaze with hers, grinning humorlessly. 

"Bodies, Dave. Even before I became what I am now, I was a killer." The grin faded as she saw the look on his face. Shrugging, she cast her gaze down. "I told you...I'm a predator. I'm dangerous. And I told you you'd be wise to have nothing to do with me." 

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly. "Want to tell me your story?" 


End file.
